


Shattered meanings hide in cracked words

by Winterchildboobear



Series: Spideypool Short Stories [4]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, spideypool - Fandom
Genre: Everyone hurts, I’m sorry, M/M, Peter Needs a Hug, Peter Parker has a heart, This Is Sad, Unrequited Love, Wade is clueless, Wade needs a hug, peter cries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 04:32:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14927201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterchildboobear/pseuds/Winterchildboobear
Summary: Peter gasped in pain as he landed, violently skidded, on the roof of a small gas station. The sound of the constant traffic in Queens was present, even at 2 AM on a Thursday in October. The honking of horns almost drowned out the pained whimper that Peter felt slip through his lips. Peter’s chest heaved as he grasped his side, the gaping wound he knew was hidden beneath his shredded suit dampened his hand immediately, he groaned in pain and annoyance as the warm trickle of blood flowing down his sides became stronger. Only one thought was persistent through his pain fogged mind, Wade.





	1. Shattered meanings hide in cracked words

Peter gasped in pain as he landed, _violently skidded,_  on the roof of a small gas station. The sound of the constant traffic in Queens was present, even at two a.m. on a Thursday in October. The honking of horns almost drowned out the pained whimper that Peter felt slip through his lips. Peter’s chest heaved as he grasped his side, the gaping wound that he knew was hidden beneath his shredded suit, dampened his hand immediately. Groaning in pain he felt annoyance swell as the warm trickle of blood flowing down his sides became stronger. 

* * *

He had taken on a villain on his own. Some VooDoo priest tossing blades everywhere, another person who wanted to get even with someone who did something, Peter had not really listened to the five minute speech that the man made before attacking. It was difficult, Peter was too caught up in shepherding a group of teenagers away to notice the villain creeping behind him, his spidey senses were too busy going haywire with the sounds of panicking citizens to warn him of the blade swinging down at him, he was shocked to say the least. 

Staring down at the blade, a crude looking sickle that was covered in a sort of enchanted purple mist, Peter gawked for a minute at the priest who’s eyes gleamed the same purple colour. Lurching away, Peter ran. All thoughts of stopping the villain dissipated with the rolling waves of pain that courses through his abdomen, he swung away through the buildings, the blade still in his ribs. He hadn’t thought to remove it till he was far away and safe. 

He landed painfully a few blocks away. Peter carefully pulled the blade out of his side, the sickening tug that it took to free the blade had him puking on its own. A dark, red coloured bile told Peter that he had internal bleeding,  _but why isn’t it healing?!_ Peter felt his chest grow tight with panic as he watched the wound remain open, blood slipping out freely with every heaving breath that Peter made. Pulling himself on to his feet, he shot a web across the street, the dark lighting of the night was welcome to aid in hiding Peter’s clumsy figure as he began swinging from building to building on his way to the small gas station that he left his bag of regular clothes and phone in, which led him to now, laying on the dirty top of the gas station, chest heaving with his cellphone clutched in his hand while the other clutched his side. 

 _I am going to die._ Peter sniffled, trying to push away the burning of tears that were trying to appear. After composing himself, Peter scrolled through him phone before clicking a number and calling...the number rang a few times before timing out and the voice mail took over,

_Heya, this is Pool, Deadpool, I can’t answer the phone right now because..I’m probably in a food coma, slicing up some baddies or taking a bubble bath. I’ll call you, don’t call twice. No one likes a clingy caller!!_

~~~~~~~~Peter stared numbly at the sky above him as the automated voice told him to leave a message, he ended the call before he had the chance. His hand thudding down across his chest, the phone clutched tightly as it’s light was dampened across his suit. Wade’s voicemail had always been amusing to Peter. But right now, it was one of the most upsetting things Peter had ever heard, _I am dying alone._ The crushing thought was overwhelming.  _Who will check on aunt May? Who will let her know!?_

The shrill ringing of his phone brought Peter out of his internal panic. Lifting his phone again, Peter stared at the smiling face of Wade stuffing a taco in his mouth. Clicking the answer button Peter bit his lip before speaking, “Wade?”

”What’s up, Spider Baby!” Wade’s cheerful voice greeted him. Peter silently sobbed, his chest contracting painfully as hot tears trailed down his face. Wiping his face quickly. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat, 

“Ya know, the same. I was just up late and bored, homework got boring so I wanted to call you.” It was a poorly executed lie but Wade knew him as a nerdy kid, so it was believable. A warm chuckle sounded from Wade, 

“You little nerd, who does homework at three in the morning!?” 

“Most every college kid ever.” Peter snipped as he rolled his eyes. Wade snorted but did not respond, instead moving on,

”I miss our taco dates, Baby boy. We really need to have another one, I have so much to tell you!” Peter lay still, Wade’s words not really setting in as his vision swam suddenly, the stars seemed to blur above him and melt into a mushy pile. 

“Yeah, that sounds great, Wade,” Peter slurred as he pushed himself up, propping his back against the large air conditioning unit on the roof, grunting in pain he panted for breath, his side felt like it was burning away, it was apparent now, whatever the purple mist had been on the blade the priest used, had disabled his quick healing, his body was not going to repair.

“Peter?” Wade’s voice called out, laced with concern. 

“I’m good,” Peter lied as he felt himself break into a sweat as nausea flooded over him. “I just slammed my elbow on my desk.” 

“Tsk, clumsy clumsy.” Wade laughed, he sounded concerned still but less suspicious. Peter didn’t want him to worry, he just wanted to talk to someone. 

“Wade, I need a favour,” Peter said suddenly, “I need you to go and check in with aunt May tomorrow. Okay?” 

“I will if I have time, I’ve been busy,” Wade said offhandedly. May loved Wade, it took some time for her to warm up to him, granted he is gross and a lot to handle at first, but she enjoyed his company as much as Peter did now.

”No!” Peter shouted as panic shot through his chest, his already blurry vision taking another swim, the surrounding world blurring and twisting around him. “I need you to check on her tomorrow, she um, is having a hard time and misses you.” The silence that followed was deafening. 

“I see what is going on,” Wade said eventually. “You miss me don’t ya? You just want to see your good ol’ buddy Wade.”

Peter hummed in agreement, his body slumping against the AC unit, his chin dug down painfully into his chest but the pain that radiated through his entire body seemed to drain him of any energy left to push himself up again. 

“Well, I’ll stop by soon, okay?” Wade said. Peter whimpered to himself, pushing the phone into his chest to muffle the sound. Glancing at his side, Peter looked at his illuminated suit that was visible by the street lamps. His suit was a dark read, his right side was almost entirely a crimson red. Much darker than the original colour. The ground surrounding him was stained red. 

“Wade?” Peter whispered, the fear in his voice was apparent, making his voice sound so much younger than it was. But he was too far gone to care. 

“What’s up, Peter?” Wade said, his voice equally as quiet, the air was softer now but somehow, Peter found it even more difficult to breath. 

“Are you afraid of dying?” Peter questioned. He knew that Wade had different opinions on death, but right now, Peter wanted comfort and he was terrified. Wade was silent for a minute before responding, 

“I guess, No.” Peter shut his eyes, they suddenly felt too tired to keep open, “Are you?” Wade asked.

“Wade, I’m so scared of dying. I am terrified” Peter slurred, his lips feeling numb.

“You should sleep, Peter. You sound beat kid.” Wade whispered. 

“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? We can set up that taco date.” 

“Okay, Wade,” Peter forced out, “I love you, you’ve been a great friend. You really have. I think I’m in love with you.” Peter mumbled, the last part was mostly  to himself as the realisation struck him.

“I love you too, kiddo.” Wade replied, the confusion was evident in his voice but he sounded sincere. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

Peter felt his grip loosening on the phone, _he didn’t hear it._

“I’ll see you again. Bye Wade.” Peter hung up, his fingers dropping the phone as his body slumped further down till he lay on the ground. Peter was too far gone in the darkness of his mind to be upset about not having that taco date or Wade not knowing what Peter felt for him. Feeling tears stream down his face, Peter laboured for another breath, his lungs stuttered before falling still. 

_I’ll see you again Wade, I love you._


	2. Shattered meanings hide in cracked words, 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for Da_Melon_Noticed

Wade hummed mindlessly as he stirred the steaming pot of ramen noodles that he was making for lunch. The steady stream of rising steam burned his face a little, but his body healed as quickly as the hot air stung his damaged skin. The tune to  _‘I kissed a girl’_ rang through his small apartment, accompanied by the aroma of the noodles’ spices. 

Wade sighed as he lifted a fork-full of the noodles from the pot, the slimey texture of the noodles was sickening.  _Cooked way too long,_ he realised. He had developed a habit of spacing off while doing little things;  _showering, eating...B_ _rushing the stray cat...Poor thing._ He rubbed at his arm where the cat had tried to escape from his lap and brutally clawing him through his shirt. 

Dumping the noodles into the garbage disposal,Wade huffed as he flicked the switch. Watching the wasted dinner dissipate with the swirling blades he frowned. Finding the garbage disposal grating to listen to, he turned it off,  _I’ll finish it later._

Dropping himself onto his couch, Wade scratched at his wrists. The rumbling his stomach made reminded him of the reason why he was making noodles in the first place. Groaning to himself Wade threw himself back to lay across the couch, one leg propped over the arm. 

 _Noodles...Macaroni..._ Listing through the things in his pantry Wade had to admit he needed to go shopping. Between finding jobs and being his Anti-Hero self, S _crew being a super hero, thank you very much._ He hadn’t had a lot of free time to shop or see Peter.  _Peter!_ Scrambling onto his feet Wade began digging through his belongings in search of his cellphone.

“Crap, crap, crap,” He muttered, tossing a pair of fluffy Spider-Man pants over his shoulder, “I know it’s here somewhere.” 

“Ah hah!” He yelled triumphantly as his phone came up in his hand. Tapping the screen to life, he checked for any missed messages. Guilt weighed heavily in his gut, he had told peter they would have a taco date today.  _Idiot,_ he thought angrily at himself for forgetting. Especially after Peter had called him last night at three a.m. sounding scared and upset. 

“I’ll just be honest,” Wade told himself as he clicked Peter’s contact name, “I forgot, I just got busy. We can go out for tacos right now. I’m starving, it’s a good idea. He’s a college student, they’re always open to free food, right?.” 

Wade sat on the floor, leaning his back against the couch as the phone rang in his ear. Tapping his finger against his knee he listened to the ringing continue...and continue till Peter’s voicemail kicked in, _“Hey! Sorry, I really am. I couldn’t answer the phone. I’ll call you as soon as I can okay. Oh, yeah this is Peter. Peter Parker,”_ Wade smiled at the familiar awkward bumbling, _“So, uh, leave me a message!_ ”  _Click._

Shaking his head Wade called again, frowning as the voicemail answered his call once again. It was no secret that Peter hated phone calls, the lack of facial expressions always irritated the weird twenty-two year old. Wade didn’t understand it, phone calls were the best, easy communication and no face to face time spent with people. Switching apps, Wade got on Snapchat. The app of the new generation in his opinion, but Peter loved to send him snaps of himself with silly filters, sometimes quoting _what was it called...weeds?_

Taking a picture of his leg strewn over the couches arm, Wade typed a quick message, ‘ _Taco date @ 7?‘_  glancing at the time, he hit send before pocketing his phone. Shoving his feet into his shoes, he grabbed his keys and one of the hoodies that he had thrown across the room earlier. It was twenty till seven, and a ten minute walk to the taco shop that he and Peter had grown so fond of, after many late night stops. They became regulars, _until lately_ , Wade thought bitterly. 

* * *

Sitting on the curb outside of the _‘Taco Palace’_ Wade huffed, shoving his cold hands into his hoodies pocket. The nights had grown a lot colder in the mid October  days. Activity was still as lively though. Cars passed continuously and the smell of tacos filled the air. Wade frowned as he saw no sign of Peter. The kid always showed up for tacos, even if he had the worst of days. He once turned up caked in dried yellow paint with a large burn on his arm from tripping in art class and landing on a heating lamp, but tacos were priority. Wade of course chastised him over tacos before taking care of the burn. 

Grabbing his phone again, Wade frowned. Worry starting to grow as the clock showed it was almost seven thirty. Peter was busy with school and work, but he never left Wade withought a response. Pushing himself up, Wade began walking down the block, _guess tacos will have to wait._

He found himself infront of the small twenty-four seven gas station that Peter always yapped about. It was owned by a small Italian family that let Peter go and star gaze on their roof at night whenenever he was struck by the occasional whim. 

”Guess I can grab a few chimichangas,” Wade muttered as he pulled open the small door. Searching through the isles he grabbed a few microwaveable chimichangas and shuffled to the check out. A plump older woman smiled tiredly at him before checking his items, 

“You’re looking tired Wade,” she commented. Wade grinned and ducked his head,

“Yeah, you know how it is. Busy busy.” She laughed and nodded, passing him his bag in exchange for a ten dollar bill. 

“You haven’t seen Peter lately have you?” Wade questioned over his shoulder as he pushed open the door to exit. 

“The last time I saw him was a week ago sweetie, and he was looking just as tired as you are.” The woman replied from behind a few shelves. Wade nodded to himself and walked out, the cold wind bit at his nose, causing his eyes to sting. Sighing, Wade twisted the plastic bag in his hand. Turning to face the building, he gazed up at the edge that he knew was  surrounded the large, open roof that Peter called his second home. It was simple concrete and crappy little stones with a few AC units tossed around, but it was comfortable, standing just the right distance away from any streetlights to be comfortable. Peter had let Wade join him on a few of his star gazing nights. _I wonder_...

Trudging around the building, Wade squinted in the darkness of the ally as he tried to remember where the rickety metal ladder that led to the roof was. Walking behind the rusty dumpster, Wade found it.

Gripped the ladders sprungs he hauled himself up each step, huffing into the cold air as the plastic bag swung against the ladder with each step. Hauling himself over the edge, Wade stepped down onto the roof, the pebbles crunching beneath his shoes.

Glancing around he looked for Peter, but saw only a small lounge chair like one that people keep around their pools, sitting abandoned in the middle of the roof. _I guess he isn’t here_ , Wade thought. Disappointment dampened his moment of hope. Turning to leave, he noticed the figure of a man laying beside one of the AC units on the opposite side of the roof. Squinting, Wade tried to make out if it was a homeless man or his friend. The shadow of the AC unit made it difficult to tell.

Walking as quietly as he could to the slumped figure, Wade peered down at him. The red and blue suit was unmistakable. Letting out a breath of relief Wade felt his shoulders slump with tension he hadn’t realise he’d been holding. 

“I swear to God, Parker. Don’t you ever give me a heart attack like that again,” Wade smiled and set his plastic bag on the ground beside his feet, “Sleeping on the job, huh? I thought you knew better. And why the hell didn’t you text me back, you missed taco night.”

Peter didn’t move. Wade felt his entire world crash down, silence was not something Peter Parker was known for. No sir, he was loud, nerdy and couldn’t keep his mouth shut for anything. He was peppy personality and sarcastic snips, he was nothing like the silent figure on the roof.

”Peter?” Wade said, his voice cracking. “Buddy I really need you to respond right now.” Crouching beside his friend, Wade placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder. It was cold and lifeless. A sob caught in Wade’s throat, causing his chest to constrict painfully. 

“No, buddy. Hey, Baby boy. Do you hear me?” Wade gasped out between tears. Gripping Peter by his shoulder, Wade tugged his friend’s body towards himself, tucking Peter’s upper body against his chest as another sob tore itself through Wade’s body. 

“Oh God. Peter, what happened,” Wade yanked the mask off Peter’s head. Revealing the fluffy mask-hair that Peter complained about so often. Feeling for a pulse Wade held his breath, _he’s just cold okay, he’s been here for a while. Stupid kid, just fell asleep._ Finding nothing, Wade wailed and held Peter closer to his chest, rocking back and forth as he sobbed openly. Burying his face in Peter’s hair, he squeezed his friend, hoping somehow to put life back into the body of his friend. 

“I’m so sorry.” Wade whispered to himself as he struggled to breath. Laying Peter down as gently as he could, Wade looked over his body, he looked fin-...

”Oh, Fuck.” Wade gasped before lurching away to puke. Peter’s side was caked in dried blood, a gaping wound in his side. Peter looked as if he had been drained of blood. The skin beneath his shredded suit was pale, at least the skin that wasn’t covered in blood. Wade felt choked as he stared at the face of his friend. Peter looked...Gone. His face was never void, he always wore some emotion on his sleeve, anger, sarcasm, joy, sadness. But right now...His face was empty. The once fire filled eyes now stared emptily at the sky, glassy and wide. 

Laying his head against Peter’s chest, Wade sobbed, leaning back in his ankles he screamed. He screamed for Peter. He screamed in anger, anger for losing his friend, anger for the world losing another good man.

Losing another hero. He screamed till his throat burned and the world went dark. 


	3. Shattered meanings hide in cracked words, 3

Peter Parker’s funeral was lonely and small. May didn’t have a lot of money to pay for a funeral, no one was ready to have. Wade helped pay, May had smiled and cried when Wade offered.  

He hadn’t expected a lot of people to show up, Peter kept to himself and didn’t have many friends. Aunt May was there of course. She looked older now and tired. Her face was gaunt and stricken with sorrow, her grey hair that was usually controlled was a mess, held in a bun with no care. Wade wanted to hug her, but he couldn’t make himself do it when he locked eyes with her own red rimmed ones. They were too full of pain for Wade to keep looking at, so instead he stared at the others. 

A blonde girl that Peter talked about sometimes was there, she was sobbing openly to another boy who had his arms wrapped around her. He looked uncomfortable to be there, it was obvious he was just playing emotional support. A few other college aged kids came, but no one stayed long.

The Italian family came, _Wade could never remember their names_ , Peter was the one who knew all of their names and interests. He was always asking the mother about her cooking and gardening when he and Wade stopped by. She hugged Wade when she saw him, hard enough that Wade felt pain in his ribs but he hugged back, squeezing his eyes shut as he let himself be held for a moment. She was the reason the police were called...after hearing some maniac screaming on the roof of her gas station, she had become terrified. Wade understood. 

* * *

Wade panicked when he heard the sirens, the sound kickstarting him brain into movement. No one could know Peter was Spider-Man. The press would never leave May alone and Peter would hate it. Sobbing, Wade slowly removed the suit from Peter's body, the tight T-Shirt that Peter wore beneath his suit in the colder months was stained a dark red, just like the suit. Wade left it on. Digging through Peter’s bag he found a pair of sweatpants to replace the suits legs. 

Bundling the suit up, Wade threw it into the packback Peter carried. The sirens were a block away now, swinging his arm back, Wade threw the bag across the street onto another roof, _no one can know he is Spider-man_ , Wade thought grimly as he went back to Peter. Falling to his knees, Wade clutched his friend closer to him as he heard the sirens surround the building. 

* * *

The story was headlined all throughout Queens

_ **“Teen murdered, other bright future lost to gang activity.”** _

It was almost comical, Peter, in a _gang_. May had been swarmed by news reporters and police during the last week, everyone wanted to know if she was aware of her kid being in a gang.  _Morons_. 

Wade watched as Peter’s casket was lowered into the ground. It was hard to believe that just four days ago Wade had talked to him on the phone. Now Peter was in a wooden box, lifeless. The thought was still too painful to process,

_petersgonepetersgonepetersgone._

Wade felt numb as he watched a few people step forward, dropping white roses onto the casket below. May dropped hers last, she was sobbing, her small shoulders shaking. Feeling a knot in his throat, Wade walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her, he held her tightly as she cried into his shoulder. 

“He was all I had Wade,” she sobbed, “What are we going to do without him?” Wade closed his eyes, resting his chin on her head as his own tears started to rise. 

“He was all I had too, May,” he whispered.

“I’ve lost everything.”

They stood there, hugging for a long while. They stood till everyone but them was gone. The cemetery left deserted and blank. Eventually May separated, smiling through her tears she patted Wade on the shoulder. 

“Thank you, for finding him,” she choked out, her eyes shimmering with tears, “Come by soon, you weren’t _just_ Peter’s friend.” Wade laughed and sniffled, nodding at her before she turned to leave. 

Wade stayed behind, watching as her car left the cemetery. His legs collapsed beneath him, his knees hit the ground with a _thump_ , he barely noticed as he stared at the hole in the ground, _grave_. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t save you,” Wade rasped, “I know you’d think it was stupid to think that. But I am, I’m so sorry Peter. I should have asked what was wrong last night. God,” Wade gripped his head between his hands, ”I should have known, I shouldn’t have sent you to bed and ignored it.”

The cool feeling of a rain drop splattered across Wade’s hand. Another two followed, more soon after. It was like the sky decided to mourn as well.

“No one will ever know what a hero you were, Baby boy. I wish I could tell people. My best friend was a hero, a super hero,” Wade chuckled dryly. Water pouring down his head, “I loved you.”

Pushing himself onto his feet, Wade stared down at the ground, “I wish I could get drunk. I’ve never missed getting drunk, it’s disorienting and messy. I really miss it right now, it’s better than _this_ ,” he choked on the word, he took a minute, trying to hold back another sob.

Finally, he dropped his rose into the grave as well, a single red rose that stuck out against the white ones. 

“I loved you too, Peter.” 


End file.
